


beneath the water

by AnnaofAza



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Curse Breaking, Legends, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rainforests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27229558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: Following Allura and her expedition team to find the mysterious pink river dolphins in the Amazon rainforest, Shiro's ready for adventure and some headspace away from his old life.Instead, he finds something else.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 75





	beneath the water

The legends say that this place has creatures are shape-shifters that can claim your soul and carry you away to an enchanted world beneath the water. Elusive in their animal form, they only appear when they wish, rarer than diamonds, and seduce men and women alike.

It’s easy to believe such tales in a place like this, Shiro thinks. Here, it’s beautiful and mysterious, with the full moon and constellations shimmering above without the poison of big-city lights, with trills and chirping and rustling, deep green everywhere. There are more than enough plants to fill a pharmacy or bring death in all its painful forms, with animals and birds and insects that rival the depths of the ocean.

It doesn’t matter that fire ants infiltrated their first camp and that his skin’s still stinging and itching, or that their rowboat capsized from the stunningly strong current, or that each night had them nervously scanning the banks for predators that likely had their eyes on them from the moment they stepped into this place. This place seems alive in an ancient, thrumming way that Shiro’s never experienced before—

He hears a shout, a curse, and whips around to see Lance yanking his hand from the water, blood dripping from his fingers.

“Lance!” Allura cries out, bending over him with a first aid kit.

“You’re an idiot,” Pidge says, rather unsympathetically, as Allura dabs at the thankfully shallow wound and begins wrapping Lance’s fingers. Pidge is swathed head to toe in mosquito netting and a giant pith helmet, but that hasn’t stopped anything from trying to eat her alive. “You know there are piranhas and god knows what flesh-eating, disease-covering organisms in these waters.”

“Also, jaguars,” Hunk shudders, eyes still on the water. “They can swim right through the current _and_ the locals said you don't even have time to scream when they get you. I’d rather just stay on the boat tonight.”

“Well, remember someone has to stand watch,” Coran advises cheerfully, cutting the engine. “Who wants the first shift?”

Shiro raises his hand. “I’ll take it.”

“I can’t believe we’re here to find _pink dolphins_ into the scariest jungle in the world,” Lance mutters. He’s already covered in flea bites from a monkey he let hop on his shoulder and pick through his hair, as well as a bright red rash from gathering an impromptu bouquet for Allura for their two-year anniversary.

Still, Shiro envies him. Lance had basically dropped everything to follow Allura all over the world on her quest to rescue various endangered species, with nothing but his meager savings and a video camera he’d gotten for Christmas. Slowly, they’d built up their team to a small but dynamic research and camera crew, and Shiro was lucky to get onboard after a messy break-up that he was all too happy to escape.

“This place is full of the most mysterious creatures, and we’re lucky to be here,” Allura says, almost dreamily. She too is covered in bug bites and sweat, as well as mud from their ill-fated swim, but she hasn’t stopped smiling. Ever since she was little, she’d told them on the plane, she had dreamed of finding the elusive river dolphins, rumored to drag the curious into paradise deep beneath the muddy waters. “Shiro, thank you for taking first watch.”

“No problem,” he says.

“Everyone be ready to wake up a bit earlier tomorrow,” she continues. “Perhaps we’ll have better luck at dawn. We have a lot of good B-roll and some interviews, but hopefully we’ll spot at least a glimpse before we have to leave.”

Pidge mutters under her breath, something about the delights of indoors, as Hunk and Lance begin breaking down their equipment. Coran whistles cheerfully as he checks the engine, and waves to Shiro before descending below.

Before long, Shiro’s standing alone on the deck, breathing in the nighttime air. Although he’s never so much has been camping, he strangely feels relaxed, as if floating on his back during a warm summer’s day.

Shiro spots something shiny and smooth, and makes to shout for Allura, only to realize it’s a different creature than they’re searching for entirely.

In the dark, he can see luminous eyes, slitted like a crocodile’s. Strangely, it doesn’t move, only watching him. For what seems like hours, they simply stare at each other in complete silence, until Shiro whispers his name, pointing to himself.

The creature looks up at him, tilts its head. Shiro stays as still as he can. Somehow, though, he’s not afraid.

From its throat, a low hiss vertebrates, before soundlessly slipping back into the deep.

* * *

Shiro doesn’t say a word about what he saw last night.

Their trip continues with a few incidents—more bug bites, a camera lost in the river—but there’s no sign of the pink dolphin, much to Allura’s disappointment. They talk to a few villagers, who volunteer stories of sightings around the flickering light of a campfire that make the hairs of Shiro’s arms stand on an end.

They talk about a god that can change shape at will—to jaguars, to crocodiles, to other predators. Its true form, they whisper, Shiro breathlessly translating, is a creature no one has seen, but is said to be the eternal eyes of the rainforest, always watching.

But they are not afraid, they continue, probably seeing the panicked look in Hunk’s eyes. For it is a guardian, not a vengeful demon or temperamental deity.

“So there’s a god watching us,” Lance mutters as they set up camp there at the insistence of the villagers. “That’s… comforting.”

“Maybe they can do something about the bugs,” Pidge grouses, clawing at her ankles.

“Or help us find the dolphins,” Allura adds with a sigh. She’s skimming through the footage on their boat, occasionally shaking her head. “But that’s how it is. Perhaps we need another boat: a smaller one, without a motor. We’re probably scaring them away, even when we cut the engine.”

Shiro only nods along, volunteering to take the first watch again.

But this time, he sees nothing, and reluctantly gives up his post to Lance.

* * *

He carefully rises out of the water, lids blinking, a protective film covering his eyes. The human has left, eyes casting a second glance at the water before leaving another smaller, lankier human to gaze at the banks.

He should be afraid of this creature, hairless and scaleless flesh with its loud and powerful machine. But he is not.

Instead, he is lonely. He’s never known anyone else of his kind, and this has been the way since as far as he can remember. Sometimes, in dreams, he receives flashes of chattering, of sunlight, of hands. But the companions here are more familiar: shy and shadowy and slithering. He knows their language, every one of them, and they tell him things: of new hunting grounds, of smoke that filters through their homes.

The people here talk to him, too—of their worries, their fears, their dreams. Sometimes, they leave food for him, a kind but meaningless gesture, as he cannot eat. Out of everyone, he likes the children, unafraid and words often unclouded with reverence or burdens. He has little idea of his own power, even after all this time, but still wishes them blessings.

But this human is rich with deep sorrow and pain, yet carries an energy he rarely sees. He can describe it as when he hears of birth, new beings crawling out and mewing, eyes sometimes unseeing, tentative but trusting.

He waits.

* * *

It comes to him again. They’d spotted teases of a flipper, a bulbous head, that afternoon, and Allura had nearly cried in relief. Pidge and Hunk are cutting together the footage and backing everything up, while Lance and Allura are bartering for an extended stay via satellite phone. He can still hear the excited chattering from the boat’s cabin.

Shiro’s leaning against the boat’s railing when he sees the lamp-like eyes.

“Hi,” Shiro says softly. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

A slow blink.

“I don’t know why you think I’m that interesting, but thanks,” Shiro says. “And don’t worry, I will keep your secret.”

Shiro receives no answer, but continues talking about small things: growing up as the only Asian in his small town, studying languages until his eyes could barely open, his broken engagement, being invited to the team.

And more: How everyone from his parents to his ex begged him to stay home, that going to exotic locations will have him being eaten by something terrible or worse. How he studied languages and history and sociology and more in college, writing scholarship essays and saving money from various jobs to study abroad. How he recovered, one day at time, from the car accident that sheared off his right arm. How his grandpa made him tea and showed him travelling grants on his iPad the whole hospital stay. How he turned down comfort and safety to explore the world in all its dangers. 

Shiro’s sure, though, that the creature is listening—and understands.

“See you tomorrow,” he whispers, as Coran calls him to change shifts.

* * *

He continues listening or sitting in companionable silence as the days go by, safely tucked beneath the surface. It’s impossible not to be drawn to this human, this Shiro, who talks to him as no one else has—no prayers, no pleas.

He wants to take Shiro’s face in his hands, to pull him under to make him stay forever. But he knows that Shiro does not belong where he is, and is leaving this place in only a few days. He knows that his webbed feet, his gills, his glowing eyes do not allow him to follow Shiro beyond these waters. There are things he cannot understand, with its everchanging machines and sky-tall buildings and moving stories that Shiro speaks of. 

It’s as inevitable as the changing seasons, as the flooding of its banks, as the sun rising and falling—he wants Shiro, but knows he cannot keep him.

* * *

On the final evening, Shiro steps out onto the deck and peers into the water for what he thinks is the last time.

“Allura found her dolphins,” he says. “So we’re heading back home tomorrow. But I’ll miss this place.” He pauses. “And you.”

The full moon lights up the water, as brightly as a spotlight, and Shiro looks down. He can see a murky figure, reaching out its hand, eyes golden.

He does not reach for a camera, or call out. Instead, wondering if he’s crazy, Shiro unlaces his boots, hooks his leg over the railing, and dives straight in.

Immediately, something pulls him into the water, warm as a bath, and Shiro opens his eyes to see a body with fins and webbed fingers and toes glowing silver, as if it had been drinking from the moonlight.

Despite the current tugging at his clothes, his limbs, the creature’s grip anchors him—and as they kiss, the creature begins to change shape in his hands, gills sealing, dark hair flowing from its head, claws sinking into rounded fingertips. Underwater vines and plants sway around them, caressing their bodies, mud squishing between Shiro’s toes, as fins sink into flesh that turns paler and paler by the second, bent limbs straightening, kicking and kicking until they break through the surface, gasping for air.

“Who are you?” Shiro asks, still coughing. He can hear the team calling his name from the boat in surprise and alarm, with Lance sputtering and nearly coming down with the rescue inflatable.

“I don’t know,” the man says, blinking up at him, voice raspy from disuse. His eyes are a deep purple Shiro’s never seen before, and dark hair flows over his shoulders. Later, Shiro would blush to remember the man’s nakedness, even after he’d been wrapped in a spare blanket and offered Hunk’s spare change of clothes. “But I guess we’ll find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Trick or Sheith event! For more spooky/seasonal fics and updates, say hi at [ my Twitter!](https://twitter.com/annaofaza)


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